Chapter Four of 'For Their Unconquerable Souls'- Potter Has Poor Taste in Lovers

[lomonaaeren]

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Four—Potter Has Poor Taste in Lovers

“Excuse me for misinterpreting your movement,” Draco said in a tone that made Adoranar smile for a moment, before his mind caught up with the words instead of the sound of them. “I took it as your doing something, when I should have seen that of course you were doing nothing instead. My eyes or my philosophy tricked me. I shall have to do a thing about that, and it will have to be something instead of nothing.”

The Auror blinked and shifted his weight. Draco let his grin split more of his face. Adoranar had not the least idea how to respond, that was clear. He gnawed his lip for a moment before he decided to ignore the word-games and bull ahead.

“You can’t keep me from Harry,” he said. “He’s only your father’s mediwizard. He was mine.” He looked triumphantly at Draco, as if he had just checkmated him.

“I do not take claims of possession seriously, not when the one making the claim cannot even trouble himself to speak the name of the relationship aloud,” said Draco, and smiled back at Adoranar. “Besides, I was under the impression that you were not lovers currently. You must have done something that angered him.”

“Him and his standards!” Adoranar didn’t seem to care how much he was revealing with that statement, or how profoundly Draco disagreed; a man who slept with someone like Adoranar in the first place could not have high standards. On the one hand, that was excellent news, because Draco knew the experience of real skill behind the lovemaking would make Potter easier to seduce. On the other, Draco would have to cast several spells that tested for diseases first, and that was hard to do unobtrusively.

“If he had only listened to me when I told him that I could maintain two relationships at one time because they were so different,” Adoranar continued, either oblivious of Draco’s attention or simply confident that nothing he could do would make him appear bad, “then we could have continued.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. Yes, he could understand Potter giving up Adoranar in that instance, even if he could not understand the initial attraction. Draco himself put a premium on exclusive attention from his lovers.

“It sounds to me as though he had excellent reason to refuse you,” he said. “It also sounds as if your attempt to interfere with him now is little more than a crude and ill-timed seduction. Do you really think he needs that, when he’s under enough stress at the moment simply tending to my father?”

Adoranar gave him a look with so much condescension mixed into it that Draco was reluctantly impressed. His mother might not have been able to better that if she tried. But then, practice often availed little against natural talent, as Draco had had to learn himself when he played Potter in Quidditch. “If I distract him now, there will be less stress,” Adoranar explained. “He’s always less stressed after sex.”

Draco crushed the temptation to put his hand over his eyes. Yes, Adoranar was so stupid that he was unlikely to understand the depth of emotional reaction it conveyed, but sometimes it was just those enemies you assumed were wastes of flesh and bone who turned out to be the most clever at divining irrational things like feelings.

“He doesn’t want to have sex right now,” said Draco. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Potter swaying softly in place, his lips barely moving as he waved his wand back and forth. Draco felt a shiver of fear and distrust when he saw his father lying there, the target of the healing spells, forced to accept them, but Adoranar made an incredulous sound and tried to step past him again, giving him a good distraction. Draco gave him a knife-edged, pitying smile. “Don’t you understand that? You, who claim to love him so well?”

“He often thinks he doesn’t want sex,” said Adoranar comfortably. “And then it turns out he does, once I coax him a bit.”

Draco curled his tongue within his mouth. He couldn’t see Potter allowing himself to be raped no matter how much in love he was, so Adoranar must have been referring to willing sex. But if it was reluctant in the beginning—Draco could not imagine a worse insult. That would imply that the other person had yielded simply because of lust or because he wanted to make Draco comfortable. And Draco demanded whole-hearted commitment of body and brain when he seduced someone. He was glad to have learned these details about Potter’s sex life, no matter how distasteful the circumstances under which he had to learn them. He would have to exert a little more effort, then, in order to make Potter yield instead of remain in his own head.

He heard laughter behind him then. He stiffened so he wouldn’t spin around. Potter’s laughter—he knew the sound of his father’s voice, as well as he knew Lucius would not laugh in such an open place, in front of such enemies—trickled like warm water into the corners of his mind not occupied with worry, and bathed even the worry in a heat that made him want to touch Potter’s hair or arm. The laughter implied closeness. It would be only right to push that closeness into physical nearness.

“I am glad to hear that the news is good,” said Lucius, in that voice he used when he wanted someone else to know he wasn’t impressed. “At least to you.”

“Smythe did cast Mansuefacio,” Potter said, and Draco recognized the name of the spell Potter had been talking about earlier. He felt a trickle of surprise join the trickles of comfort in his mind. Perhaps Potter knew what he was about, only being a mediwizard aside. “As soon as I can find a counter to it, I can—“

And then he caught his breath into a silence that expressed more than any indrawn curse could. Draco locked his legs against turning around—not least because Adoranar had a glazed expression on his face as he stared at Potter, and might attempt to interfere again at any moment—and listened instead.

“Smythe wove a construct of spells, not just one,” Potter said, and his voice was filled with as much disgust and tension as Draco could have wished to hear. Potter was not a member of the family and could not be expected to act like one, but it seemed he had an ordinary Healer’s instinct for the care of his patients. “Mansuefacio is tied to a fourth spell, and the fourth spell may be tied to a fifth one. I wonder if he cast them on purpose, or in a panic, one after another, when he realized the first few weren’t working the way he intended them to.” Draco heard the shuffle of his feet and the intake of his breath. “Auror—“

Draco held a dark smile off from his face, and imagined the way the scene would look to Potter. He would see Draco standing behind him like a bodyguard, arms still folded, setting his strength like a wall between him and interruption. And he was the kind of person who might take that as a compliment to him, rather than Draco simply wanting to protect Lucius.

“What happened?” Potter said, moving forwards far enough that Draco could see him out of the corner of his eye.

“He was about to interrupt you again whilst you cast, the brainless idiot.” Draco let some of his contempt weigh down his voice. Potter deserved to hear how little value Draco placed on his ex-lover. “He doesn’t seem to have considered the harm unrestrained healing magic could do to my father’s body and brain.” He let his shoulders twitch and heard Potter release a sigh that contained a muffled curse.

“I merely wanted to ask you a question.” Adoranar lowered his eyes. Draco blinked his contempt this time. If he had learned to use that expression in his conflicts with Potter, it was only another sign that Potter had let him get away with things he shouldn’t have in their relationship. Really, he had terrible taste in lovers.

“As it happens, your question will have to wait, because I have more important ones,” Potter said. His voice was sharp with salt, and Draco could catch a glimpse of a congealed expression that would probably have put off anyone less persistent than Adoranar. “What degree of planning does Smythe appear to have brought to this? Did he speak of plotting carefully and calculating the effects of each spell, or might he have cast recklessly, wildly, trying to snatch back control as each piece of magic went awry?”

Adoranar sighed and took a step back from Draco so he could stand straighter. He tucked his chin into his shoulder, too, and Draco could only imagine the compliments Potter must have offered him in the past to make him decide that was a flattering posture. “You know how poor my memory’s always been, Harry, and how much I dislike speaking in front of crowds. If you would come into the corridor with me for a moment, I’m sure we could have a more fruitful discussion.”

Draco blinked. Perhaps he couldn’t assign all the blame for Potter’s vulgarity to him, after all. Perhaps he’d been corrupted by the company he kept. Had Adoranar really just offered to give them the information he should have handed over freely if Potter had sex with him?

Draco heard a half-hissed breath that reminded him of Parseltongue, and then Potter spoke. Draco felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. So Potter did have the capacity for cold anger after all. It was rarely found among half-bloods, and made him the more interesting to Draco.

“Pardon me for asking the question. I do remember how poor your memory is, Auror Adoranar. You forgot your wedding ring at home for seven months whilst you visited my house.”

Draco couldn’t help himself; he laughed. He saw Potter’s eye turn towards him, but since Potter was unfamiliar with the Malfoy code of conduct, Draco decided the sound was worth the risk; Potter wouldn’t know how rare it was that Draco laughed, or what it meant. Better still, it visibly deflated Adoranar, who crossed his arms in front of his chest as if he were trying to stem the flow of blood from the invisible wound of his humiliation.

“Well, I really can’t say what Smythe had planned or hadn’t planned.” Adoranar pouted. He didn’t make an effort to sound like an adult, Draco thought, amused but not amazed, not anymore. “We had no reason to suspect multiple spells, so I didn’t ask about them, or listen for clues that might have confirmed their existence.”

“Thank you, Auror,” Potter said. Draco expected him to bow, the way he would have himself after delivering such a polite blow, but instead he turned back to Lucius. “I do apologize, Mr. Malfoy. It seems my investigation will be still more prolonged. Perhaps I could simply cast as many Finites as there are spells and end them that way, but without knowing how they are joined—whether simply piled one on top of each other or joined together in a net—doing so could damage you. And I suspect the solution is more complicated, in any case.”

Draco let his eyebrows rise. Potter understood spell mazes, then, and the complicated patterns they could knot in, and how dangerous it could be to try and break one. It was more than Draco had hoped for.

“Competence can take as long as it needs,” Lucius murmured, and closed his eyes. Draco caught his breath as his mother entered the hospital room. He hadn’t seen the signal which Lucius had used to summon her. Or maybe they had conversed together that morning and arranged for her to come in now. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw the Auror turn tail. He wondered if Potter had seen the look Narcissa had sent his way, like an icicle drill. “Now, Mr. Potter, is there anything else you need to discuss with me, or can I converse with my wife in private for a time?”

“Nothing else,” Potter said. This time, he did bow as Narcissa stopped beside her husband and stroked his hair back. Perhaps he could appreciate indulgent tenderness as he could not appreciate the subtler emotions, Draco thought. “I shall continue reading, and hope to bring better news the next time I come.”

Potter left the room. Draco glanced over his shoulder once, and Narcissa caught his eye. That alone was enough to make Draco turn away. His father did mean a private conversation this time, in spite of Draco’s volunteering to stay with him so that none of his enemies in hospital could kill him. Draco supposed he was safe enough with Narcissa. The only trouble might be if his mother mistook a friendly overture for a hostile one and Transfigured the offender into a gibbering ball of flesh before someone could tell her the truth.

Meanwhile, Potter was ahead of him, checking his watch. Draco sped up subtly to catch him. Potter would be in a vulnerable mood at the moment, doubtless, with the appearance of his ex-lover stirring up thoughts of sex and perhaps thoughts of mourning, if he still regretted that he’d had to get rid of Adoranar. Draco could think of no better time to catch him off-guard and begin his seduction.

He reached out and clasped Potter’s arm, making sure he still smiled when the gesture made Potter spin around. Inwardly, Draco snorted at the closed cast of Potter’s face, the tight lines around his mouth and nostrils that clamped them almost shut. How in the world did he think he was going to attract someone to replace Adoranar, if he went around looking as if he smelled the inside of the Weasleys’ home?

“Since my mother is sitting with my father, I have some time to spare,” he said. “Would you mind if I accompanied you to your lunch? I’m rather a stranger to this part of London and don’t know the best places to eat.” He widened his smile, having decided that subtlety was wasted on Potter. “And I do want to thank you for trying to save my father’s life.”

For long moments, Potter simply stared at him, blinking slowly, making Draco fear that his efforts were wasted. And then he smiled again, and Draco caught his breath. He could grow used to having that smile directed his way. He wondered absently if it was the way Potter would look when Draco showed him how very well he sucked cock. He lifted the hand he had on Potter’s arm to trail light fingers towards his elbow.

“I didn’t thank you for preventing that prat from interfering with my spell, either,” Potter murmured. He spoke with such calmness that it took Draco a long moment to realize Potter was not actually accepting his offer. “So you’ve done as much to preserve your father’s life as I have, this morning. By the way, thank you.” He bowed and gently pulled, wringing his arm free of Draco’s grasp. “I’m afraid I can’t oblige you, though, since I’m not going to lunch.”

Draco blinked at him. “But it’s almost noon,” he said. Questions he would not ask drummed against the inside of his skull with soft wings like a covey of quail. Aren’t you hungry? I would be myself, if I had to go through the effort of casting a spell like the one you used on Father and then through a confrontation with a lover I despised in the same few hours. And lunch at noon is one general custom worth keeping.

“I know,” Potter said, “but most days I simply don’t have enough time. I won’t today, either, before my attendance is required on the third floor in—“ He checked his watch, and Draco saw his throat bob as he swallowed. What emotion had he just held back? Irritation, pride, annoyance? Surely not arousal, as much as Draco would have liked to think he was succeeding in inspiring that at this early stage. “Twenty-five minutes. I’ll have enough time to go to my cubicle, relax for a few minutes, and swallow a potion I need, but that’s all.”

Draco wanted to tell Potter how strange he found him, but that would never have done even if Potter was part of the family. One did not openly express puzzlement unless it could be done in such a way to embarrass an enemy. “What potion do you need?” he asked. Perhaps this was a way he could get close to Potter even if Potter distrusted his lunch invitations for some reason.

“Oh, a common one I have on hand.” Potter gave him a smile so devoid of meaning that it made Draco want to grip his shoulders and shake him. Potter seemed to be doing his best to hide weakness from Draco, but that made no sense. He wasn’t part of a pure-blood family; he didn’t live within a world that feared and distrusted him for his traditions. Far from it, in fact. Draco could not discern where he would have learned his caution.

“A headache draught?” Draco asked, making a guess based on the number of lines in Potter’s forehead and the way he walked with his eyes half-shut. Potter stared at him, and Draco smiled at him again, seeing a way to turn even Potter’s reluctance to his advantage. “I saw you rubbing your forehead earlier.” It could do no harm for Potter to think he was even more obvious than he already was, and it would make him warm to Draco, to know how closely Draco was watching him. “And I know another cure for that.” He lifted his hands to press on Potter’s temples and squeeze away the pain. He could already hear the sinful groan Potter would give on being touched that way, and see the arch of his back as he yielded.

It occurred to Draco that he was perhaps spending too much time and thought on Potter’s reactions. He dismissed the idea. He was having fun, and he would end up by binding someone important to Lucius and potentially valuable to the Malfoy line, so what did it matter?

And then it didn’t matter, because Potter reacted as though Draco had tried to cast Crucio on him through his fingers. He ducked his head and scuttled away, then jerked around, his movements as stiff as a puppet’s. Draco let his hands fall, staring. If a more shameless rejection of a massage existed, he didn’t know what it was.

“Potter!”

A bald man with large eyes like a dying vulture’s had appeared behind Potter. Draco curled his lip, uncaring if he saw. He doubted that this man could do anything to hurt Lucius, even if he did wear a Healer’s robe and even if Potter did incline his head to him as if he were someone to be respected.

“Healer,” Potter said.

Draco narrowed his eyes in thought. He was sure he could see scorn around the edges of Potter’s mouth, but he still half-bowed to the Healer and seemed cringingly eager to please him. Perhaps he should be grateful that Potter had let Draco know how much he despised him. He might not ever have been able to tell otherwise.

Then he wanted to roll his eyes at himself. There was no way that Potter was that good an actor.

“One of your former partners is downstairs again, insisting on seeing you,” the Healer said, in a tone that did credit to his judgment. Going by what he had seen of Adoranar, Draco doubted any other ex-lover of Potter’s would be a prize, either.

Potter paled for a moment, then gave a jerky nod and hurried forwards. Draco remained where he was, arms folded, until the Healer and Potter had both departed around the corner. Then he gave in to curiosity and followed.

If he understood more about Potter’s ex-lovers, then surely he stood a better chance of knowing more about Potter. And then he could understand why Potter would sleep with someone like Adoranar and shy away from Draco’s own good-natured touch.

Especially when he still has a headache and won’t even put this Healer off long enough to take a potion for it. Not eating, acting as if he doesn’t notice physical pain…I would say that Potter poses as much of a danger to his own health as attacks from our enemies do.

*

“I received your communication.”

Narcissa needed to do no more than edge those words with ice. Lucius understood her, from the way he bowed his head. Narcissa lifted her chin and waited for an explanation, her hand moving to the back of her husband’s neck, where her fingers could close in an unobtrusive pinch.

“It was necessary,” Lucius said. His breath gusted over the hand that lay on his chest.

“It was dangerous,” Narcissa said. “When you bear a spell that could damage you further with every magical effort that you expend—“

“Then merely breathing is dangerous,” Lucius snapped, leaning up on one elbow so that he could stare at her. “Since some magical theorists believe that a wizard’s every breath is tinged with magic.”

Narcissa narrowed her eyes and waited. After a moment, Lucius seemed to realize how vulgar he was being, shouting into her face, and leaned back against his pillow with a curt little nod, though she didn’t know if he realized he was nodding at nothing. “It was necessary,” he repeated softly. “Based on what Potter discovered.”

And he repeated what Potter had told him about Mansuefacio and a spell-maze. Narcissa listened without comment, though her fingers did relax from their grip on the back of her husband’s neck and fall down on his shoulder again.

Lucius had contacted her with a form of telepathy that only the head of the Malfoy family and his or her spouse could employ. It was powerful, very dangerous, and very draining. Lucius had, luckily, not tried to linger long or Narcissa would have snapped at him; he had simply sent her a blast of his need for her and a summons to come at once, then dropped out of her mind, leaving Narcissa to make her polite excuses to the minor cousin of the Goyle family she was having tea with.

Draco did not know about the telepathy, though he had long since accepted that his parents seemed to instinctively realize when one of them needed the other. Narcissa had wanted to tell him, but Lucius had insisted that it was a secret that could only be passed on to the heir of the Malfoys when the head of the family was on his deathbed.

Narcissa could not truly object. Draco had been raised as the heir of the Malfoy bloodline, not the Black, and that meant the traditions he should accept and believe in were the Malfoy ones.

But it also meant that he was blind to some aspects of Lucius’s personality Narcissa saw with perfect clarity. When Lucius spoke vaguely of the use that he meant to put Potter to and how he had encouraged Draco’s plans to seduce Potter because of that, Narcissa bent her head and let her lips curve on the side of her face aimed away from her husband.

You have no concrete plans to handle Potter yet, my strength. You simply wanted to sound mysterious and powerful for Draco, you wanted to make it sound as if you had predicted the matter if Potter turns out to be useful later, and you wanted an escape from Draco’s concern, which can be—obsessive—at times.

But because they understood each other, Narcissa did not have to speak that understanding aloud. She said softly, “You want me to hunt among the Death Eater families for those who might have knowledge of spell mazes?”

Lucius squeezed her hand without reply. Narcissa kissed his temple and began to think of plans she could use to discover the truth, absently noting that Draco had not come back yet. Perhaps he was more interested in Potter than Narcissa had given him credit for when she thought it was merely a scheme of Lucius’s.

That might be all to the good, as well. Narcissa had been the guardian of the Malfoy family’s social reputation for the last three decades, whilst Lucius negotiated the political side of things. Perhaps Potter was not useful in the ways that Lucius and Draco would immediately think of—monetarily or magically—but there were some people who would look at Narcissa with more respect in their eyes for the mere sake of an association with Potter.

This is why I agreed to marry him, in the end, she thought, as Lucius briefly leaned towards her so that his hair brushed her forearm, where the Dark Mark had never burned. Because we work well together and because we had the potential for both power and unity that a pure-blood family so badly needs.

Love is because of power and unity and the contribution that one can make to a family. As soon as Draco understands that, then he can cease this pathetic search for a perfect mate and instead find someone who will work.

Chapter 5.

Comments

[ravenqueen55.livejournal.com]

Fascinating, as always.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[violetage.livejournal.com]

These insights to the facets of the Malfoy mind are intriguing and interesting and yet, though they are understandable, they seem alien. You are amazing!

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm keeping the cool, alien side where I can, especially with Lucius and Narcissa, because though they'll be more understandable from the inside of their heads, they really do hold the beliefs that seem so odd to Harry in the original story.

[duchessa.livejournal.com]

Wow. Julius' stupidity was more apparent in Draco's pov. I was a bit surprised at what he did in the last chapter of BbU, but not anymore. Kinda have to agree with Draco , Julius ( and later Xavier) does not recommend Harry's taste in lovers much. Or maybe Draco just have impossible standards. Pity we don't get to see Harry's nice exes. Would he have approved of them?

Love Draco's thoughts of Harry in this chapter. Still so many off the mark, but he's getting a few direct hits. I like how his thoughts wander to sex more often than Harry too. Ha. Can't wait to read his frustration when Harry continue to thwart his advances. And that part about Harry being unnecessarily cautious because he's not in a pureblood family made me twinge. Harry has so many people wanting to use him, I think he's has morejustification for paranoia.

Love Narcissa's pov, and her relationship with Lucius. Not the most romantic, but hey, they work. Wrenching contrast to their 'Same species..' counterparts. I'm kinda glad that Draco doesn't seem to share her opinion though. Doubt Harry could be so 'practical'.

I'm dying a slow sweet death waiting. Will the next chapter have the Heart Blessing Spell? Am getting jittery just at the thought. I'm addicted, that's what I am. Ummhmm.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Harry does have rather low standards, doesn't he? It helps that Julius was charming to Harry for a long time, and he really didn't see him interacting with other people much. And Xavier seemed interested in Harry for Harry, a necessary deception if he was going to get close to Harry to see the heroic side he was convinced was there.

Well, one of Harry's nice exes, Francis, is mentioned in Chapter 13 of BBU. Draco may get a chance to meet him! But no, he probably would not have approved, because none of those lovers is skilled enough or handsome enough to capture the taste of someone who would reject him. :)

I will really like writing the next few chapters! Xavier, the Heart's Blessing spell, and Draco trying and failing to waltz right into Harry's bed are coming up.

Draco really does see the world through a pure-blood lens. No one can be in as much danger as his family. No one else makes better lovers. Etc.

And thank you! Draco is more romantic than Narcissa, but he still wants someone who would work as part of the family- which is one reason that he goes after Harry so hard when he does. Here's someone he finds attractive who just allied himself by blood to the Malfoys. He doubts he'll find another chance like this.

[agr8fae.livejournal.com]

This sotry is even more delicious in Draco's POV. Julius is hilarious/pathetic and the images Draco uses to describe him and Emptyweed are hilarious. I just adore the way you write Narcissa.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

I haven't written Narcissa POV before, so I'm glad that you like her.

[thrnbrooke.livejournal.com]

Interesting thinking! I sooo need more!

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[fauxpersonae007.livejournal.com]

The chapter title, 'Potter Has Poor Taste in Lovers', made me smile so very much. Loved Draco cutting Julius down to size the entire time.

That last line does reveal a lot about Draco's personalty. I like that he's been looking for the perfect match.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Draco just doesn't understand why someone who would reject him would approve that clown.

And yes, he has. Of course, part of that definition includes someone who can join and protect the family.

[helenadax.livejournal.com]

Draco's right: Harry has horrible ex-lovers. His thoughts about them are very funny. Adoranar seems so utterly stupid I can't understand why Harry fell for him once. Being married is the last of his flaws.

Can't wait to see Xavier from Draco's pov.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you! It helps that Julius was handsome (he was Harry's first male lover), helped him get over Ginny, and was charming to Harry for a long time.

That will be next chapter. :)

[(Anonymous)]

Yea! for more of Draco's POV. Wow! It is more clear how dangerous Harry's ex is from Draco's pov. I also love the insight into Lucius & Narcissa's relationship and Lucius personality. This is so much fun. I was hoping to meet the other ex today from Draco's pov, but I guess I'll have to wait for the next update. This really is one of my favorites of yours. I'm so glad you decided to write it again. I'm likeing it even better the second time.

[jenndr.livejournal.com]

Huh? I became anonymouse again? I'm not sure why. All those things anonymouse just said were me.

[jenndr.livejournal.com]

Hmm (shakes head) anonymouse? I guess I'm mousy sometimes too, but really twice in the same post. I do usually try to watch my typos and spelling.

[firedraygon97.livejournal.com]

And then he could understand why Potter would sleep with someone like Adoranar and shy away from Draco’s own good-natured touch.

Draco describing his touch as 'good-natured' amuses me.

The whole Malfoy telepathic connection is pretty awesome, too. Glad to see this isn't just a rehashing of the first fic, but its own story with its own side-plots. Of couse, I wasn't expecting any less from you, haha.

[star-faerie.livejournal.com]

That was a rather interesting chapter.

[theburntcereal.livejournal.com]

I love how far Draco reads into everything. From Harry's perspective, everything was pretty simple.

That said, keep it up! I hate waiting, haha.

[tray-la-la.livejournal.com]

i love the way that, in this version, we get to see draco struggle with how strange harry's behaviors appear, just as we got to experience harry dealing with the same in the original version. i think it's so interesting how they are both trying to make sense of one another according to their preconceived notions about one another's blood status/social class.

the wedding ring bit with adoranar is just so clever, i love it.

He wondered absently if it was the way Potter would look when Draco showed him how very well he sucked cock.

hee!